


Wiggling

by IrenkaFeralKitty



Series: Rogue Squadron Shorts [17]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Corellians are sexually repressed, M/M, Time to have some fun, Trapped, Tycho is not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 01:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18173819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrenkaFeralKitty/pseuds/IrenkaFeralKitty
Summary: Tycho loved messing with Corellians. They usually came in two flavors: sexually repressed or completely libertine. And despite having been a smuggler and a pilot for the Rebel Alliance for several years, Wedge still fell in the former category.





	Wiggling

“Stop… wiggling so much,” Wedge hissed.

Stretched out across his lap and with his head buried in the control panel next to Wedge, Tycho snickered. “Come on, you may as well enjoy yourself while you’re stuck there.”

“Enjoy myself?!”

Tycho bit his lip at the scandalized tone in Wedge’s voice. Oh, he so dearly loved messing with Corellians. They usually came in two flavors: sexually repressed or completely libertine. And despite having been a smuggler and a pilot for the Rebel Alliance for several years, Wedge still fell in the former category.

“There is nothing to enjoy about this situation!”

Was that a hint of panic? Hmm. Perhaps he could start nudging Wedge into the latter category after all.

“Our shuttle crashed, half the supplies we were picking up are ruined, and I’m trapped in this chair. What exactly should I be enjoying?”

“The view?” Tycho said innocently, then proceeded to wiggle his backside in way that was far from innocent.

There was a squeek and the armrests of Wedge’s piloting chair creaked as he clutched them tighter.

“Really, Wedge, you can’t complain about me wiggling the pretend you have no idea what I’m referring to,” Tycho scolded him. “And… got it.”

Carefully pushing on the twisted console and the pilot’s chair, Tycho hauled himself off Wedge and stood hunched over in the broken cockpit.

“The navcomputer should be working again, which hopefully means that fault keeping the transponder from activating should be resolved.”

Leaning forward as best he could with the seat straps locked into place and his left leg trapped by console, Wedge worked the controls in front of him, his face screwed up in concentration.

“It worked,” Wedge finally declared and grinned. “With luck, a rescue team will reach us in a few hours.”

Pleased, Tycho dropped back down onto Wedge’s lap, hooking an arm over his shoulders. “Perfect. So, what should we do to pass the time?”

“Uhh…”

“What about some more… wiggling?”


End file.
